Tag: Christian LIving

Burden bearing

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

“I don’t want to bother you with my issues.”

Ever said that?

I mean, who wants to share their troubles with the people around them?  Do you really want to hear about my health issues, or my financial difficulty, or my stress at work?  I am sure you have enough problems of your own.  You don’t need me dragging you further into the gutter.

Haven’t you said these things inside your head?  Or even out loud?

Surely we’ve been taught from our childhood, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”  We are supposed to smile, say nice things, and put the best construction on everything.  Right?

Yes, and…then there’s the Bible.

Galatians 6:2

Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ.

Here’s the thing, I don’t mind carrying your burdens, but I really don’t want you carrying mine.  Right? I mean we all want to rush to the rescue when a friend is in the hospital, or lost a parent, or needs help moving, but we really don’t want to invite anyone in to help us when the basement floods, or our kids are sick, or (gasp) we can’t do everything that we used to be able to do.

But Paul, in Galatians, says, to bear one another’s burdens.  That implies reciprocity.

I think I have established through this blog that I have most of my life been pretty self-sufficient.  I can do it myself, thank you very much.  I don’t need anyone’s help.  I kick butts and take names and God help you if you get in my way.  Notice I said ‘most’ of my life.  For the past couple of years I have been learning a new way.

Last May, at the very end of our school year, as a result of medications I had been taking, I contracted ocular herpes.  Yes, herpes. In my eyes.  (My teenaged daughter who drove me to the eye doctor got a kick out of that.)  Let me just say here that it is miserable.  Other than the itching, burning, and aching of my eyes, they were extremely sensitive to light, so I could not drive for a few days.   During that time, we were having end of year faculty meetings and a faculty luncheon at a restaurant a bit of a distance from the school and from my house.  My daughter dropped me off at school in the morning, but I needed a ride to the restaurant and then from the restaurant to my eye doctor and from the eye doctor to my house, which happened to be in the opposite direction of anyone I worked with.

So, self-sufficient me decided to ask my friend, who lives with severe rheumatoid arthritis, if I could ride with her to the luncheon and then if she would drop me at my eye doctor which was not terribly far out of her way.  She said that would be fine.  I then figured out how I could take public transportation from the eye doctor to my house.  I had done this before, it was no big deal, and it allowed me to be self-sufficient.

But, after the luncheon, my friend took me to the eye doctor and insisted on staying with me and driving me home afterward.  I didn’t want to burden her.  By that time in the day, I knew that we both needed some rest and this would add an hour or more to her day, and to her driving.  But she said to me, “this is something I can do.”  And although it was admitting that I couldn’t do everything by myself, I knew at that moment that I was allowing her into my need.

After the decision to ‘allow her’ to help me, I was so thankful that she was there.  She sat and had coffee with me before my appointment time, and even helped me select the glasses that I now wear.  She drove me to my front door and then headed home.

It was a small thing, driving me home, wasn’t it?  Not really.  It was a big thing for me.  It was a symbol.  It was my admission that I need others, and in that need, I am blessed.  And, you know, I think she was blessed, too.

I know that I am blessed when others allow me into their mess, allow me to walk with them for a minute or a mile, allow me to shoulder part of the burden.  Why would I deprive someone else of joining me in mine?  Mostly because I’m a proud butt-kickin’, name-takin’ soldier.  Or, I was.  Anybody can change.

John 15:13

Greater love has no one than this; to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

Changing

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I got home at 2:30 am today. That’s a real time.  I left the Washtenaw County Courthouse around 2:15 and drove through a mostly abandoned Ann Arbor, past the medical center, and the VA.  I was less than a mile from home, near Gallup Park, when I thought, “Oh, I better watch for deer—” and as I said it,  one appeared, as my son would say, “at eleven o’clock.”  I stopped in the middle of the road, met eyes with the critter, and nodded for him to go ahead and cross.  I swear he nodded back and then sprang across the road in front of me.

After over seven hours of chatting with the two agents from the Associated Press, entering tallies into my iPhone app, and playing countless rounds of CandyCrush (yes, I re-installed that dumb game on my phone!), I was not quite ready for sleep.  So I plunked down on the couch and read.

A friend recently loaned me a book called, Still Alice, which chronicles the life of a woman about my age who is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s.  It is told from her point of view from before the diagnosis until she no longer recognizes the people in her family or even herself. I read and I cried.  I’m not sure what touched me more, her sense of loss, or the ways that her family learned to love and care for her as she became something that she had never been.

Around 4:30am, with only about thirteen pages left, I decided I was too drained to finish the book, so I crawled into bed and knocked out.  I woke up of my own volition around 11.  Chester may have been willing me awake, because when I stirred, he leapt to his feet and pleaded with me to take him outside.  Apparently I understand deer and golden retrievers.

I took him out, went back to the couch, tried some more to conquer Candy Crush and pushed away thoughts of eating, making tea, blogging, and working out. I wasn’t sure I would do much at all today.  My body ached and I was tired. I didn’t feel hungry and I wasn’t even really interested in tea.  Maybe I would just lose the day to couch-dom.

I hadn’t been in my position long when the front door opened.  My husband entered and found me looking, I’m sure, pathetic in my jammies with a glazed look on my face.  “I thought you might be up.  Can I make you some lunch?”

“I guess I should eat something.”

“Can I make you some tea, too?”

“I’ll come join you in the kitchen.  Maybe if I washed the dishes my hands would feel better.”

He sautéed onions and spinach in butter and stirred in scrambled eggs, just how I like them.  I washed dishes and told him about my night downtown.  We ate and laughed together and by the time he left I was ready to go back to my book, to think about driving to the gym, and to sit for a few minutes at my computer to blog.

It’s not lost on me — the connection I am making between my life and the book.  I am a someone I have never been.  Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.  Yet, I have a husband, and children, who are learning new ways to love and support me.

Oh, and I think I am learning to talk to animals.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,

for His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Sign me up!

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Whew!  I had a close call yesterday.  I asked the administrator, during my interview when she hoped the position would start, she said, “Monday,” and I almost said, “Sign me up!”

It’s a good thing I have all of you as witnesses to my commitment of January 5.  Because when I said, “My initial plan was to not return to work until January…”  she said, “That’s fine!  We will still need you in January.”  It’s also a good thing that I have mentioned the need to only work part-time, because when she said, “It’s Monday through Thursday 8:00-3:30,” I was able to sputter, “that’s a little bit more than I was planning on.” Her response? “How does 8:30 – 1:30 sound?”

And I haven’t even told you the exciting stuff.

The school was started by a group of individuals who did a study that revealed a college graduation rate of 12% among the residents of the south Ypsilanti area where the school is located.  This is in stark contrast to the 84% college graduation rate on the other side of Michigan Avenue where Eastern Michigan University is located.  It’s first goal was credit recovery, but quickly shifted to high school completion.  The school uses an online platform combined with project-based learning.  The halls are decorated with project plans and completed projects — among them a three-dimensional replica of Fort Michilimackinac and a comparison/contrast of Twelfth Night and 10 Things I Hate About You. 

The head administrator and the principal explained the fluidity of the curriculum to meet the needs of students who might be the first in their families to graduate.  The administrator said, “What the students need more than anything is someone who believes they can do it.”  When I asked, “So, what might my role be, would I need to come in on day one with a plan?”  She answered, “They will let you know what they need.  They want this. They will put you to work.”

So let me get this straight —  the students, many of whom are over 17, come to school voluntarily, follow their own plan for high school completion, enlist the help of school personnel to make that happen, and display virtually no behaviors unbecoming of students?  Because they know that the teachers believe they can do it and are working to make it happen?

Sign me up.

Now, perhaps I am looking through rose-colored glasses.  Perhaps I am not seeing the school’s weaknesses.  Maybe it is not all that they say it is.  There is only one way to find out.

Sign me up.

I mean, after all, it’s not a contract.  I would only be a paraprofessional.  If I don’t like it I can leave.  Right?

Let me be clear, here.  I have not actually been offered a position, but I think it’s mine if I want it. Listen to this:  I might be getting paid to encourage students to finish their high school diplomas — students who really want to finish their high school diplomas.  I am also being paid, by the way, to read and respond to a master’s thesis on cheating in educational settings.  And today, remember, I am going to be paid to report election results.

Remember last week when I was worried about finances and I climbed up onto my Dad’s lap to talk to Him about it?  See what He’s doing?

Yeah, I see it, too.

Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine,

according to His power that is at work within us,

to Him be the glory.

Ephesians 3:20

Worry?

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

So for the past couple of days I have been a little worried.  We had some expenses surface that were unexpected and the finances started to look, to me, a bit scary.  I may have uttered the words, “if I just got a full-time job, this would not be a big deal.”  As if in response to those words, I was plunked down on the couch with the most demanding aches I have had in quite a while.  I literally had to rest.

A still small voice was uttering:  Hey, little girl, I’ve got this.  You are not in charge.  I think I can handle your finances.  

Wait, what?  I don’t think I heard that.  Let me worry and grump around the house for a couple of days.  And I did.

Then, I opened my Bible study this morning.  I have to be honest and tell you that I haven’t done my regular Bible study in three days.  You see, our group got a little behind in our study, so we have altered our pace.  It is no longer necessary for me to do my homework every day.  So, I let it sit for a few days.  Should I make it very clear here that my few days of worrying coincide with my few days of not doing my regular Bible study?

I know, I know, it is not a magical formula.  But we are what we eat, you know?  If I take in the Word of God, it tends to center me on truth.  If I fail to take in the Word of God, the other ‘stuff’ in life tends to overwhelm me, crowding out the truth.  I start to feel like I have to carry all my problems on my own.

Anyway, I opened my Bible study this morning.  The whole point of the study was prayer — taking concerns to our Dad because He delights in giving us all good things.

More than usual, the study required that I look up verse after verse to make the point.  Luke 11:13 — the heavenly Father gives things to His children, Ephesians 1:3 — He has already blessed us with every spiritual blessing, 2 Peter 1:3 — His power has granted to us all things, and 2 Corinthians 9:8 — God is able to do this.  Now, I know this Bible study was published in 2014, but it wasn’t published this morning.  Yet God assembled this study to be just what I needed to see this morning. Because He knew where I would be in my thoughts this morning.  Because He knit me together in my mother’s womb.  And He knew about the expenses that, to us, were unexpected.  So, He probably has a plan for how they are going to work out.

Yup.  Schooled again.

Was it just yesterday that I wrote about the three time periods — now, a little while, and when Jesus is revealed?  Wasn’t I talking about how I was going to live my life for the little while I have until Jesus is revealed?  Do I want to spend it worrying?  Or do I want to climb up onto my Dad’s lap, tell Him the situation, and let Him reassure me: Hey, little girl, I’ve got this.  You are not in charge.  I think I can handle your finances.  

Yeah, that one.

Do not be afraid, little flock, because your Father delights to give you the kingdom.

Luke 12:32

A lesson in perspective

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

When I teach the elements of literature, I always have to spend considerable time discussing perspective or ‘point of view’.  The way a story is told changes dramatically depending on who is doing the telling.

For instance, slavery, from the point of view of a wealthy southern land owner, was a pretty genius idea.  Free labor that reproduces itself.  Brilliant.

However, from the point of view of the actual human being who was being held against her will, in a barely habitable shack, subjected to rape, physical abuse, and near starvation, it was not such a great idea.

Similarly, perspective is impacted by how close you are standing to the story.

Recently Bill O’Reilly, in an interview with Jon Stewart, argued that there is ‘no white privilege’ because “there is no more slavery, there is no Jim Crow..” From his point of view, “If you work hard, if you get educated, if you are an honest person, you can make it in America.”  It worked for him. 

However, from the point of view of young black man being educated in an inner city school in America, surrounded by poverty and the lack of resources,  it may not seem so simple.  The system doesn’t always work where he’s living.

But this post isn’t really supposed to be about slavery or about white privilege.  It’s about perspective. I recently got some.

I was sitting next to my friend last Saturday after the memorial service for his wife of forty years who had just finished her eight-year battle with breast cancer.  He said to me, “So, what’s this health issue you are dealing with?”  Perspective.  I was frankly a little embarrassed.  Not because he implied that my illness was ‘less than’ breast cancer.  Not in the least.  He was genuinely concerned about me.  However, my internal dialogue went something like this.  Wow.  He has just watched his wife go through round after round of chemo, several surgeries and hospitalizations, not a few brushes with death, and then the final blow.  And I am complaining about joint pain and fatigue.  Perspective.

This past Wednesday I, of course, went to Bible study.  The teacher was explaining that in the Bible there are three time periods mentioned — now, a little while, and when Jesus is revealed.  My internal dialogue went something like this. Right now I’ve got it pretty good.  Yes, I feel kinda crappy most of the time, but I am not really limited from living my life.  And seriously, it’s only going to be a little while until Jesus is revealed.  How do I want to spend that ‘little while’? Perspective.

Now, let me be clear.  I am still living with some kind of health issue.  It, as I told my friend, “slows me down.”  However, as I have explored over and over again in this blog, having been “slowed down” has been a huge blessing for me.  Slow, it turns out, is a pretty good speed for me.

From inside this body, I would say that my life has changed.  In some ways it is less comfortable, but in some ways, it is much more healthy than it has ever been.

From outside this body, I would say that I’ve got a pretty amazing life. I am living with a husband who loves me and supports this grace period.  I live minutes from two very competent medical centers.  I have access to great foods and a phenomenal exercise facility. I have so many friends! I have healthy children and a grandbaby on the way.  And I get to spend a lot of time in my pajamas!

I do love pajamas.

Sometimes we need to move around a little bit, stand in a different spot, and get a healthy dose of perspective.

Romans 8:18

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing

with the glory that is to be revealed in us.

And so it begins…

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Well, kids, when it rains it pours.

This Sunday afternoon I am meeting with a graduate student who is looking for someone to help him organize his Master’s thesis — 120 single-spaced pages on academic dishonesty.

On Monday I have an interview to be a part-time English paraprofessional at a charter school for non-traditional students.

Tuesday is my big gig as an election agent.

Whew!  I think my days of unemployment may be coming to an end!

Now, I am not saying I am going to be offered either of the positions I am being interviewed for.  Nor am I suggesting that I will certainly take either/both positions if they are offered.  However, it is nice to know that this chronic job hunter can still get an interview!

Don’t worry, I am aware that Sunday is November 2.  I have not forgotten that I have been committed from the beginning to be still until January 1, or, technically, January 5.  I don’t consider one night as an election agent to be ’employment’.  Do you? How about several hours reading a thesis?  Is that really work?  I mean, yes, I would get paid.  Yes, I would be using my expertise.  But, I am pretty sure I could do it in my pajamas, on my couch, with or without an ice pack applied to whatever ache I may have at the moment.

Now being an English parapro?  That would count as an official job — regular hours, real humans counting on me, actual skills being utilized.  I did mention on my application that I am available for work starting January 5.  I still got a call.  I still have an interview.  So, who knows?

I consider the position I am in to be one of luxury.  I am not desperate for a job.  We can survive if I don’t work at all.  We will surely have to cut corners and go without a few ‘wants’, but certainly all of our ‘needs’ will be met.  So, I can be relaxed in these interviews, be myself, hear what they have to say, and honestly communicate whether I feel I am capable of handling the task at hand.  Yes, pure luxury.

I have been on the other side.  I have been desperate for work before.  I have had to step into situations where I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into.  I have had to have on-the-job training.  And truly, this will likely happen again, to some extent, no matter what position I eventually land in.  But I have crossed enough bridges, and weathered enough storms to know that, no matter what, I’ll be fine.

Years ago at my confirmation, my pastor placed his hands on me and proclaimed my confirmation verse, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” Joshua 1:9.  And, you know, it has proven true.  He was with me when I worked in a group home for emotionally impaired girls.  He went with me to my first classroom of learning disabled students.  He has led me through all these years of parenting.  He has gone before me and beside me through challenges, victories, sadnesses, and joys. Even when I thought I was fighting all my battles on my own.  He was there.

So, bring on the interviews.  We’ll be there together.  Therefore,  I will be strong and courageous.

A little more on writing

~ Kristin ~ 4 Comments

I attended a poetry reading by Li Young-Lee last night.  He read three poems he said he is ‘working on’.  In fact, after the first, he said, “I need to change one word in that one.  Next time.”  I smiled and thought to myself, “No writing is finished, merely abandoned.”

I can’t remember who said that to me.  And maybe they didn’t even say it to me.  But it has stuck with me.  In fact, I said that phrase to many students who wanted their writing to be ‘just perfect’ before handing it in.  I don’t think it’s possible for writing to be ‘perfect’.  Revision is always possible.  We can always ‘change one word’ or one phrase.  We can always have a better introduction, a better conclusion.  We can always find a way to say something differently or better.

Also last night, a young writer sent me an essay she just received back from her teacher.  I had ‘helped’ her with her process and she had received a 69/100.  Ouch.  The marks all over her paper were valid.  Of course there is room for improvement.  She is revising at this moment.

Revision.  I do love revision.  But it’s so hard!  In order to revise we sometimes have to delete our creation!  We have to cut out words that were so difficult to find in the first place. We have to make decisions about which of our thoughts get to stay and which have to go.  It takes time.  And thought.  It’s agonizing.

And ultimately, we have to decide that enough is enough.  We have labored so long on one piece, revised ad nauseum, and we can’t stand to work on it any more.  So, we ‘abandon’ it.  We submit it ‘as is’.  It’s ‘good enough’.  We did all that we could do.

We are not perfect.  We cannot produce perfect work.  It’s impossible.

Yet in our imperfection, we are not abandoned.

Do you remember the t-shirts from back in the day that said, “Be patient with me, God is not finished with me yet”? Cheesy, yes, but true.  We are works in progress.  The Creator continues to make revisions, shaping and molding us.  He can visualize the finished product, and guys, we will eventually arrive there!

We will not be abandoned.  The Creator does not tire of working with us. He doesn’t wad us up and toss us in the general direction of the trash can.

Nope.

He cradles us in the palm of His hand, gently caressing and reshaping us.  He conforms us to His image.  And one day….

He who began a good work in you 

will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

Phillipians 1:6

We, my friends, will not be abandoned.  We will be completed.

Write away

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

A friend asked me yesterday if I know what I am going to write before I sit down at my laptop.  Not usually.  I sit down and think “Well, what’s it going to be today?”  Sometimes I just start typing.  Sometimes I look at a blank screen for a very long time.  Sometimes I get two or three paragraphs in, delete the whole thing, lather, rinse, repeat.

On rare very blessed days, I wake up with an idea in my mind, sometimes in the middle of the night, and I can’t get to the keyboard fast enough.  I have a start, I don’t know where it will take me, but I know for sure that I have the topic right. In those moments, I feel like I am being instructed by the Teacher himself, as though He is pushing the words through my fingertips onto the screen, because He knows that is where I am most likely to pay close attention to them.

On other days, I get up, drink my tea, eat my oatmeal, skim Facebook, read my emails, do my Bible study, then come to my computer with a general idea of where I am headed. This type of writing is usually an extension of my Bible study, allowing my brain to explore out what I just studied, making it personal.

Sometimes my writing sorts out what is happening in my life — the death of a friend, a change in medication, a potential job.  This writing usually reveals the feelings that I typically keep below the surface…the ones that are pressing to be examined…the ones that I really need to process in order to move forward.

And today, I am writing about my writing.  Writing allows my soul to breathe.  I learned that when I was very young, back in the days of pink diaries that locked with a little golden key.  I treasured the time I could lie on my bed and write in my diary.  I poured my little heart out into those cheesy little books.  Somewhere along the way I discovered poetry and dabbled a little in finding just the right combination of words to cryptically express my innermost emotions.  Later, poetry gave way to song lyrics, devotions, and lesson plans.

My students often asked me if I would ever write a novel.  “No,” I would say.  “I don’t really know how to write what’s not true.”  And that’s a fact.  The only type of writing I really know how to do is this — putting the ordinary stuff of life on the page in order to make sense of it.

Some people paint.  Others dance.  Some run marathons.  Others garden.  We each have to find the language of our heart and use it to say what’s inside of us.  We know when we’ve found it because we can’t help but run to it, and getting there, we see that others too, miraculously, are blessed.

It’s a mystery, isn’t it?  Someone could be blessed by my fumblings? Your fumblings? But they are!  So, I’ll continue to fumble along.

I Corinthians 12:4

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit…

He will wipe every tear from their eyes

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Is it possible to have the spiritual gift of tears? I have often thought I could get a gig as a professional wailer for funerals.  When I was a child, I could be counted on to cry at any given occasion, usually because I wasn’t getting my way, but also because I was sad, or tired, or hungry, or one of my brothers had poked me one too many times.

As I grew older, something changed, and I don’t always produce tears on behalf of myself.  I might get a little choked up at a goodbye, but rarely do I really sob because of something that is happening to me or about me.

But let me see someone I love hurting, and look out!  I don’t even really need to know what they are hurting about.  If someone dear to me has a tear in her eye, my eyes will well up to match it.  If someone I know has lost someone dear, I will weep with them.  But what’s really weird is the fact that I can see a total stranger sobbing and I, too, will feel overcome with emotion.  Does everyone do this?  Or is it just me?

Yesterday, I had a good reason to cry.  I attended the memorial service for a dear friend who died almost one month ago.  I hadn’t seen her in three years, so it’s not like I will miss our daily interactions.  She holds a dear place in my heart because of her impact on my life, but I am actually thanking God for taking her after eight long years of battle with breast cancer.  My body sighs relief to match her relief.  But, despite the fact that I am happy for her, I sobbed yesterday.

And, not really for myself.  I think I can be honest about that.  The service was at the church she had belonged to for twenty years — where she and her husband had raised their daughters. Many friends had come to share in the celebration of a woman who certainly beamed joy into every room she entered.  All the music was up-beat praise music, which is what my friend and her family loved.  It all proclaimed the hope she had in Jesus and the certainty of her salvation.  None of this made me cry.

What made me cry was watching the back of her tall, broad-shouldered husband of forty years, standing in the front row without her, singing the words of the songs, nodding his head in agreement. What made me leak tears was seeing her daughter embrace her granddaughter, sharing tears of loss and sadness.  What made me sob was watching her other daughter stand erect and sure, dabbing at her eyes, then walking to the front of the church to share beautifully her mother’s legacy which she challenged friends and family to carry on.

My day to day life will not be changed because my friend has changed addresses.  The lives of her family will never be the same.  For them, I wept.  For them, I pray for comfort.

Revelation 21:4

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more,

neither shall their be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more…

Evaluating Exchanges

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

It came this morning — my first rejection notice.  “Thank you for taking the time to apply.  We are contacting you to let you know that the position has been filled.”  I should have kept every letter or email like this I have received over the years.  You can’t be addicted to applying for jobs without experiencing the rejection letter.  And, just like with parking tickets and library fines, I take rejection letters in stride.

I actually was not surprised by this one at all.  The position needed to be filled as soon as possible, and I recorded that I would be available starting January 5.  This letter didn’t sting.  Actually, it spurred me on to look for more openings and to put in more applications.  You know, improve my chances.  So, I checked all my usual spots for jobs, to no avail, and then said to myself, “OK, on to blogging.”

The fact is, as much as I am looking forward to finding a position, I know I will make an exchange when I am actually hired.  I will exchange availability for schedule.  I will exchange boredom for activity.  I will exchange rest for work.  I will exchange energy for pay.  It’s math, guys.  24 hours – 0 working hours = 24 Kristin hours.  Right now I spend each of those hours virtually as I please.  I sleep for 8-10 of them.  Yeah, I know — luxury.  I cook for 1.  I read for 1-2.  I exercise for 1-2.  I socialize for 1-2.  I do Bible study and blog for 1-2.  I rest for 1-2.  I clean or run errands for 1-2.  And pretty soon, my twenty-four hours is used up!

Now, one thing I know about math (besides the fact that I am lousy at teaching it) is that it is consistent.  It always works.  So, if I work for 4 hours a day and sleep for 10 hours a day, that leaves for 10 hours for everything else — exercise, cooking, cleaning, shopping, socializing, spending time with family (including my husband, of course), and resting.  That might work.  If I spend 8 hours a day working and 10 hours a day sleeping, I have six hours left for everything else.

Before I slowed down due to my physical limitations, I was spending about eleven hours a day with work-related activities — travel to and from work, actual time at school, grading and prepping, and extracurricular activities.  I started to realize that something needed to change when I would drive dazedly (I think that’s a word!) home from work, collapse onto my couch, and then crawl off to bed before I started the whole cycle again.  After all, 24 minus 11 hours at work minus 10 hours of sleep = enough time to shower, eat, switch one load of laundry, and respond gruntingly to the people I love the most.

I can’t go back to that. I would exchange too much.  I am not willing to trade time on the phone with a daughter or son for time in the car.  I am not willing to trade dinners with my husband for supervising a hallway.  I am not willing to trade time blogging for time grading papers.

But I think I am willing to trade a couple hours of Netflix for a couple hours in a library, or teaching a community college course, or editing a dissertation. I am willing to trade time spent hunting for jobs for doing an actual job. I am willing to let my husband cook dinner occasionally so that I can use my God-given gifts to connect with others.

I am close to the time when I will be ready to make an exchange. But I won’t trade time with my son who is coming home on leave next month. I won’t trade the Christmas holidays with my daughters who will both be here.  I won’t trade meeting my new granddaughter.  I won’t trade walks with my husband.  I won’t trade time re-connecting with Jesus.

This gift of time, of being still has allowed me to appreciate the value of time with those I love the most.  It’s worth more to me than any job, any title, any paycheck.

I won’t trade it for anything.

Matthew 6:21

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.